


Silence

by geekmama



Series: Molly Hooper, Girl Detective [7]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-13
Updated: 2016-10-13
Packaged: 2018-08-22 05:04:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8273950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geekmama/pseuds/geekmama
Summary: The Diogenes Club might have been considered by some to possess an atmosphere both restful and convenient, but Sherlock was not among their number...





	

**Author's Note:**

> For the "Club" prompt.
> 
>  
> 
> ********************************

The Diogenes Club might have been considered by some to possess an atmosphere both restful and convenient, but Sherlock was not among their number. He was not a member himself, and never would be if he had any say in the matter. He’d spent enough time in the place under his brother’s aegis, and for the most part they’d been uncomfortable times, indeed. Either Mycroft was taking him to task for some peccadillo or other, or the British Government was asking him to assist in some harrowing, if not life threatening, scheme. Then there was the time he’d been secreted there on his return from the dead, which might have been mildly pleasant if he hadn’t been quite so sore from his sojourn in that Serbian jail.

Bloody Mycroft and his _wading in_.

No, Sherlock wasn’t fond of his brother’s club, and the fact that he had far better things to do than to wait on said brother was putting him in an even worse humor than usual. And yet… and yet…

“Ah, brother mine, so good to see you,” Mycroft said, as ironically as usual, when Sherlock was permitted entrance to the inner sanctum, where one could at least express oneself out loud.

Sherlock replied, with a distinct edge, “Mycroft, this had better be important because I have business to attend to.”

“I’m well aware. You have been moving heaven and earth for the last five days in an effort to find Dr. Hooper, have you not? And yet in a most subtle and secretive manner. What are we to infer from this? You haven’t had a falling out, have you? Or is that still in the planning stages?”

Sherlock set his teeth. “How did you-- no, why am I surprised?”

“Certainly you shouldn’t be. Your surveillance level may have dropped, but it still exists. _As does Dr. Hooper’s_.”

Sherlock stared. “Bloody hell! You know where she is, don’t you?”

Mycroft studied his perfectly manicured nails. “I admit we had a difficult time keeping track of her. She left London last Saturday, directly after working a double shift at St. Bart’s, and as she didn’t take her mobile phone with her we had some difficulty following her movements. We managed it in the end, however, and I believe we have discovered, too, why she took such a step.”

“The sick friend was a lie,” Sherlock said, harshly. Miserably.

Mycroft’s brow arched, and he studied Sherlock for a long moment. “It was,” he said slowly, “But I believe the conclusion _you_ have come to is equally erroneous.”

Relief surged through Sherlock so suddenly that he grabbed the back of a chair for support.

Mycroft glared at him. “Sit down, Sherlock, before you fall down. These histrionics are unseemly and unnecessary.”

Sherlock did sit down, but he said, wryly, “I believe histrionics implies impassioned speech.”

“Well, dramatic pantomime, then,” Mycroft shrugged. “In any case, Dr. Hooper and the child are both safe.”

Sherlock sighed. “I-- I thought--”

“I know what you thought, though why you would imagine she would do away with your child is quite beyond me. For God’s sake, the girl has loved you for years!”

“I know that,” Sherlock said, tightly. “But…”

“But?” Mycroft prompted, trying to be patient.

“Why didn’t she tell me? If she knew.” Sherlock knew he sounded unacceptably distraught, but he couldn’t seem to help it.

But Mycroft only said, “Have you ever in the last six months indicated to her that you were interested in a more permanent arrangement?” When Sherlock said nothing, Mycroft went on, rather gently. “It may very well be that she feared your reaction to such a life-altering revelation.”

Sherlock frowned. “Molly’s not afraid of me! It’s been years since she’s… since I’ve…”

“Dr. Hooper is under a great deal of stress, Sherlock. I expect it’s merely that her courage failed her for a time. You may have been living _love’s young dream_ for the last six months, but she knows what kind of man you are. You have a temper. You say cutting things. And for all her newfound spirit, she’s still aware that you can hurt her.”

“But… I bought her a ring.” Sherlock’s voice trailed off, miserably.

Mycroft smiled a bit at that. “Did you? What about grand-mère’s ring? I believe Mummy would want you to consider it, at least.” And he opened a drawer, took out a small velvet-covered box, and set it on the desk.

Sherlock, with an uncertain scowl, took up the box and opened it. Small but perfect diamonds winked up at him from the old fashioned setting.

Exactly what Molly would like, he’d lay money on it.

He closed the box and looked up at Mycroft. “You interfering bastard. Did you tell them about the child?”

“Of course not,” Mycroft said, smoothly. “I merely told them your relationship with Dr. Hooper was growing more serious, and that it might be a good time to have the ring readied, just in case. I had it cleaned, by the way.”

Sherlock nodded. “Very well. Where is she?”

“What do you plan to do?”

It was on the tip of Sherlock’s tongue to tell Mycroft to go to hell, that it was none of his business. But it _was_ his business, of course, at least to some extent. Molly Hooper had been a part of their lives for a good many years now, and had risked much on their behalf. Sherlock knew Mycroft held her in esteem, which was saying a great deal for one who viewed the majority of humanity as so many “goldfish”. A casual _affaire_ was one thing, but this… One married a spouse, true, but one married into a _family,_ as well.

So Sherlock said, instead, “I’m going to ask her to marry me, of course. Sentiment… but it seems it can’t be denied.”

Mycroft smiled. “Indeed. And just to clarify, my feelings on that subject may have altered somewhat over the years. But Sherlock: be careful.”

Sherlock nodded, swiftly considering the possible outcomes of his reunion with Molly and finding that he was both anxious and excited at the prospect. “It’s my intention, certainly. Now, once again, brother mine: where is she?”

  
  
~.~  


End file.
